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jointherebellion215 · 2 months

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His Kiss, The Riot

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: When you and your secret lover make plain to Feyd-Rautha your wishes for a life together, despite the proposed arranged marriage, he surprisingly acquiesces. But he can't let you go so easily, can he? Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: manipulation, Dark!Feyd-Rautha, arranged marriage, NONCON elements, gore, violence, she/her pronouns, female!reader, tragedy, star-crossed lovers, songfic, not quite a happy ending (oops), dark dark dark interpretations of Hadestown and the story of Orpheus and Eurydice.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read If It's True and liked, reblogged, or commented. I appreciate every single one of you. As always, I would love some feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs if you can :)

This is Part Two to my Feydestown trilogy (I'm so sorry for the pun). You can read Part One here.

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.

The devil takes this Orpheus

And his belladonna kiss

“So you wanna get married? Take away the woman I just offered my hand to, to whom I all but have legal claim?”

Your beloved’s replied words of affirmation to his words hold the slightest tremor, but like a dog to fresh meat, Feyd-Rautha sniffs this out immediately. Another smile graces his face. Feyd speaks to the crowd now, “Yes, I was promised the Lady’s hand in marriage. But! I am a benevolent figure, so I guess I’ll let the lovebirds go.”

The crowd starts to give polite applause, while your knees grow weak at the news. You can go? Has love really prevailed on this day?

“However,” and with that, your heart drops “I have some conditions for these… nuptials.”

You could sense the air growing thick with tension as the reality of the na-Baron’s ruling twists out of your favor.

“Conditions?” You whispered.

“Of course, my darling! I can’t make this too easy on you, now can I?” Feyd paces back and forth on the steps from which he speaks, making your eyes dart back and forth with each step he takes. Vigilance overtakes your body in case of any rash decisions.

“You two can leave the city, but it won’t be hand in hand. This pair will have to walk in single file, with the boy in the front and my darling Lady at least thirty paces behind. No ships, no speeders, no running. Walking.”

The energy of the room starts to grow more electric as the points of this term seem to set in.

“The Lady cannot speak out or make any indication of her following behind. You’ll be faced forward the whole journey. Once you reach the edge of the city and passed the threshold, you can be together for eternity.”

Your breath hitched. Seems easy enough, right?

“But, if the boy so much as turns his head to check and see if the Lady is following, the deal is off. She’ll return to me, and we will be married.”

Nothing makes a man so bold

As a woman’s smile and a hand to hold

“Is this a trick?” Your beloved asks plainly.

Feyd tilts his head, pacing down the steps to ground level. “Now, what makes you say that? I’m being generous. I’ve set my terms.” He is now nose-to-nose with the man attached to you.

“Now meet them or face the consequences.”

The hand holding yours is now pooled with sweat. You quickly and subtly jerk the arm of your beloved when he starts to protest, not recognizing a gift when he sees one. You bow, the picture of poise and grace that you were raised to be. There is still time to leave with all of your limbs intact, you could not afford to slip up now.

“We offer our most sincere gratitude, my Lord na-Baron. Thank you for this most auspicious opportunity. We will not squander it.”

Your beloved gives a clumsy bow to match yours. Feyd’s manic smile grows as he clasps his hands together. The sound echoes through the hall.

“So it shall begin!”

But all alone his blood runs thin

And doubt—doubt comes in

The pair of you hold hands, side-by-side, at the entrance of the palace gates. A crowd has followed you to the edge, with onlookers from the outside spectating the unexpected appearance of a noble. Occurrences like this did not happen often, if ever.

“You heard the terms. The Lady must walk thirty steps behind. She must not speak to you.” Your hands reluctantly separate, following the orders you were given. You can feel your heart pounding with each step that you take away from each other.

“Some of my guard will accompany you, to ensure that you comply to the letter.” Four Harkonnen warriors step forward and encase you in a square formation, leaving the love of your life alone and vulnerable. He looks back towards you, fear and doubt creeping into his eyes. You nodded at him, believing that you could succeed in your task. That you would prevail.

“You may begin.” Feyd voices, and with that—you start your journey. Step by step, you walk further through the foliage that immediately surrounds the castle gates and into the city square.

Once you and your beloved reach the horizon, Feyd turns to walk past the crowd and back into the corridor.

Your father, the Duke, bows quickly and offers his gratitude, but is ignored as the younger Harkonnen goes to gather his blade and shield. With a yell, he summons his guards to formation. As Feyd checks the integrity of his weapon, one of the Baron’s advisors tentatively steps towards him.

“My Lord, perhaps you should consider letting them go—” In the blink of an eye, the man is silenced with a swift slash to the throat. Blood spills through the advisor’s hands as he struggles to put pressure on the opening. His body flops to the floor and Feyd carelessly steps over the writhing body to march forward.

“Let’s go fetch my bride.”

Dangerous this jack of hearts

It had been almost an hour of walking by this point. There had been almost a dozen times where you wanted to give any audible indication to your lover that you were here. A whisper, a whistle, a stomp of your foot. Anything. But now you could see the edge of the city, you could almost taste it.

A life with your love was within reach.

The guards accompanying you shifted inward, almost boxing you in. You were hopeful, but nerves were creeping in.

This was going well. Too well.

The grand arch signifying the edge of the city was above your lover now. The field that you used to meet at in secret lay just beyond it. You’re almost there. Just twenty more steps and you could be together, forever.

He steps over the threshold, you see his shoulders lift and fall in an exhale. Then, the man you had fallen in love with— who you wholly believe in— slowly turns his head to lock eyes with you. A pale figure steps out from behind a pillar accompanying the arch.

The growing smile on your face immediately falls. You call out his name.

Oh no.

The na-Baron tsked and shook his head, as if scolding a child. Harkonnen troops flanked the area, giving Feyd-Rautha enough berth to have his fun. The three of you were surrounded, but only one really had the advantage.

“You were so close!”

Your beloved held out a hand, “Wait, wait! I made it over!” He started to back away in fear, unarmed and exhausted from the long walk. Colorful, ripe foliage brushed his legs as he back into your field.

“Ah, but she didn’t. So, face the consequences.”

Then his blade pierced the man you love.

Your ears started to ring, throat working itself raw as you wailed. Tears blurred your vision, you could hear the gurgles of the blood leaving your fiancé’s mouth and the slosh of his newly disemboweled entrails hitting the lush field before you.

With his kiss, the riot starts

His body made a sick thud on the floor, and your body jumped along with it.

You ran towards your dead lover, cradling his face and sobbing for the soul that was just ripped away from you. He didn’t deserve such a violent end. His only crime was loving you and being loved in return.

A chuckle sounded from above you, and you turned your tear-stained face to the brutal Harkonnen. He was covered in the blood of your lover, his spoils of war staining his pale skin. Black teeth on full display, his shoulders gave a slight shake as he expressed his humor. His laughter sparked a rage in you like you’d never seen before. It didn’t matter what bonds you may or may not have formed over the conversations you had the last week. He’s a monster. He needs to pay for what he’s done.

Red flooded your vision.

With a roar, you lunged for the man. His laugh grew more manic as you smacked, punched, kicked, and hit every visible part of him that you could identify. In your grief, every ounce of training that you received flew out the window. He took every blow with a smile, as if he enjoyed the punishment you were attempting to bestow on him.

“There we go, my darling. Show me your pain. Your rage!”

Your mind started to clear with the more hits you landed. With a quick swipe, you had the weapon that killed your beloved against the naBaron’s neck. The Harkonnen soldiers immediately stepped forward, but Feyd stopped them with a wave of his arm.

“Ah ah ah! Leave her be.” His grin almost split his face in half, specks of dried blood making a painting of his face.

“Do it. Go ahead, come on.”

He pressed his neck forward, purposefully putting pressure on his own blade. Fresh blood started to trickle down his neck, adding to the gallons already spread all over his uniform.

The shock of his willingness to put his life on the line made you hesitate, which made him cackle in your face. Your anger made you draw the blade back and slice it across his chest. A groan left Feyd’s mouth,

“Good girl.”

An unexpected thunk to the head made your vision start to spin. Feyd’s arms braced around you, slowly lowering you to your knees and down to a lying position. He cradled your head as if you were a precious commodity, when he leaned forward and captured your limp lips with his.

As black started swallowing your vision, you heard him say,

“Don’t worry, my darling bride. It’ll all be alright. You won’t feel a thing.”

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peridotite · 1 year

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bumbleby is sooooo good. it starts as your usual sunshine/emo duo but grows into so much more. turns out they actually get along flawlessly. turns out yang has abandonment issues and blake always runs away. turns out blake’s ex is the opposite side of the same coin as yang, and blake chooses her anyway, then is proven time and time again how she could never be adam. turns out both their worst fears happen; blake’s newfound world crumbles in her hands, yang is left behind, and they still find their way back to each other. turns out yang needed blake and blake thought she didn’t deserve yang. turns out they’re reincarnations of an ancient love that ended in tragedy, but theirs didn’t. turns out their eyes are the color of the other’s soul. turns out they defeat the monster who almost ruined them not through martyrdom, but by protecting each other. turns out after everything they’ve been through, the hardest thing to do is professing their love out loud. turns out the confident, intimidating yang xiao long is terrified to say it. turns out the once reclusive, self-loathing blake belladonna is absolutely sure and eager to say it. turns out all they’ve ever wanted was to be together.

#if you excuse me i will go cry #my posts #bumbleby #rwby9 spoilers #rwby #rwby9

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reashot · 9 months

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To celebrate my mother day's Fic for reaching 100 likes and reblog. I can finally show y'all what the Arc kids are supposed to look like and who they are for the sequel:

https://www.tumblr.com/reashot/717409273449234432/happy-mothers-day-feat-jaunes-future-children?source=share

Dusk Belladonna

Gender:♀️

Age: 10.

Semblance: Invisibility (she can made her self invisible for few seconds.)

Weapon: N/A. (She doesn't have or want one.)

Favorite foods: Anything with fish but prefers Tuna.

Likes: Mommy, Daddy, Being alone.

Dislikes: Dogs, crowds, stranger.

Character Desc:

Dusk Belladonna is the daughter Blake and Jaune which means she is also the daughter of both human and Faunus. In her timeline Human and Faunus achieved true equality and mutual respect with one another. It was not easy and although Dusk herself does not know the sacrifice needed to achieve it, even she knows that it's something to be cherished and protected. Quiet, reserved and preferring the company of close associates. She is still expected to one day lead Menagerie and all of Faunuskind. A decision that she is also unaware of. But her parents are against it. Instead wanting her to enjoy her childhood for as long as she can before the fated day.

Scarlett Rose-Arc.

Gender: ♀️

Age: 17.

Semblance: Petal Storm. (An upgraded form of Ruby's Semblance.)

Weapon: Crescent Rose MK. 20. (A.K.A. the Geneva Violator.)

Favorite foods: Strawberry Shortcake.

Likes: Spending time with family, weapons, fighting.

Dislikes: Bully, Bugs, Rainy day.

Character Desc:

Scarlett like Ruby is both a powerful fighter and a genius weapon inventor. Her weapon is the Crescent Rose MK. 20. A Scythe, Voulge, grenade launcher, assault riffle and sniper rifle combination weapon. In practice such a weapon should not be able to work but she and Ruby managed to made it work. This essentially turns her into a one woman army. But even though she’s a formidable warrior she still not yet able to beat her older brother Vermillion in a fight. Something which annoys her.

Victor Arc (formerly a Schnee)

Gender: ♂️

Age: 20.

Semblance: Glyph. (Has been shown able to summon a small army worth of Grimm.)

Weapon: Myrtenaster,

Favorite Foods: Sushi.

Likes: Seeing her mother dead, his little sister, cute things. (In that order.)

Dislikes: His mother, Atlas, Incompetent people. (himself)

Character Desc:

Victor Schnee or now known as Victor Arc was once a former Scion of the Schnee Household. Is the son of Jaune Arc and although he hates to admit it, he is also the son of Weiss Schnee. In his timeline the world is broken in every sense of the word. In his world. War has engulfed Remnant. And the scale of destruction is beyond comprehension. Continents shattered, sea boiled over, even the very air turned against you, All courtesy of the Superweapon created by the SDC. Of course many tried to stop the war from happening and all failed, Even Jaune Schnee died trying to stop it. His dead however is proven to be the catalyst for the tragedy. After his death something broke inside of Weiss. Despaired and Enraged by her husband’s death. Weiss reorganized the Kingdom of Atlas into the Atlesian Empire and declared war on everyone. With Victor serving as her right hand man. Working under her Victor is responsible for many of the Empire’s victory and her atrocity. He himself is directly responsible for numerous warcrimes and even genocide against the Faunus. Victor is also credited for killing Ruby Rose and for capturing Blake. Back home in Atlas he was hailed as hero for this feats. It’s only until much later that he regretted his action. And came to hate his own mother so far as to wanting her dead. While she's the one that broke the world, he still blame himself for helping her doing it.

Aurum Arc

Gender: ♂️

Age: 30-40.

Semblance: Ignite. (He is able to heat up the surface of any object he touch. If you seen the hot knife video on YouTube it’s pretty much like that.)

Weapon: Prominence Flame. (A Greatsword of the big-ass variety.)

Favorite foods: Homecooked meal. (he ain’t picky.)

Likes: Justice, protecting innocents, helping people.

Dislikes: Injustice, Villain, Laziness.

Character Desc:

As the oldest of the 12 sibling, Aurum is also born the weakest among his siblings. Born prematurely many did not expect him to survive childhood. But he refused to give up. Motivated by stories of warriors of old and the story of his father. He continues pushing his limit. And to the surprise of everyone he not only survive past childhood but he actually starts growing taller and stronger compared to other children his age. So strong in fact that in the age of 15 he managed to kill a Dragon Grimm. By the age of 17 he joined the Arc Knights. And in the age 20 rose through the rank and become the youngest captain of the group. A rank that he still hold to this day. Despite his achievement however he still found himself lacking behind his father and he made a promise that he will surpass the Grandmaster, Jaune Arc himself.

Vermillion Rose-Arc.

???

Scarlett's older brother will finally make his true debut in the next fic. So till then just wait my lovely readers. You will be mildly surprised.

And if there's anything you want to ask just leave a message, I'll try to answer it as best as I can.

And do tell me which one is your favorite?

#arc kids #lancaster #dragonslayer #knightshade #whiteknight #rwby #rwby au #rwby fanfiction #rwby lancaster #rwby dragonslayer #rwby knightshade #rwby whiteknight #jaune arc future children #Jaune Arc #rwby oc

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builtbybrokenbells · 3 months

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belladonna | prologue

Too beautiful to resist, and too deadly to survive; the tragic tale of belladonna in all its glory.

Masterlist

Pairing: Danny Wagner x f!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of toxic family situations, swearing, smoking

Welcome to the show 🥰 I’ve been incredibly excited to share this with you, so stay tuned for more!

WHERE IT ALL BEGAN

When faced with the tragedy of remembering, it is often perceived as something beautiful.

After living a life as painful as your own, reminiscing on the past is neither easy nor enjoyable.

A deadbeat father, and a stepfather who was present yet absent all the same. A mother who was all but kind, and two brothers who were made fully responsible for all of your successes and failures.

From the moment you were born, life seemed to find every possibly opportunity to strike you down. Despite the relentless effort, you stood up, you kept going, and you survived.

You did not realize until you were much older, but surviving was the easiest part, and the difficulties most often lie within the aftermath. Picking yourself up while still struggling with knowing who you are proved difficult, but you managed to settle yourself into a routine and found a safe place to rest while you pieced together your own personality. Just when you thought you could finally put the burden down for a moment, you found yourself amidst the hardest challenge of all; living a life that was far different than what was destined for you, yet still plagued with the memories of the little girl who once ran so you could walk.

You spent every waking moment avoiding the memories housed in your brain, and when you could no longer avoid them, you crumbled to the ground as you faced them head on. You deconstructed every notion you had of yourself and rebuilt from nothing so many times that your head began to spin when you thought of it for too long. You became a stranger to avoidance, and you made friends with your own demons. Eventually, you made a life out of the hurt that once limited you.

At a diner off the edge of town, you worked night shifts and weekends to make ends meet while you spent the daylight chasing after a dream that you feared might never come true. You went home every night in the dark, the smell of the deep fryer still lingering on your clothes as you smoked as many cigarettes as the walk would allow. When the sun rose in the sky, you would drag yourself out of bed and sit in front of the large panel windows in your living room and write until your mind went numb.

Stories of everyone and everything, synopses of books you wanted to, but would never publish, and poems to air out your own, relentless thoughts. Journals sat around the room, stuffed so full of pictures and words that the spines were near broken. Single pages floated around the space, some with only one word, and some with so many that you could barely read it underneath the mess. You did not have a lack of imagination, nor a lack of patience; writing is a long process, and a good book will take years (That’s what you told yourself, anyway). You lacked inspiration, something to give you the motivation to keep writing and to keep trying, even if you failed. You needed something to write about, because recounting your own tormenting sadness and loneliness was becoming unbearable.

You searched in dive bars with cheap liquor, wondering if you would find meaning at the bottom of (another) empty bottle. You searched in coffee shops with signs that were faded and falling down. You looked for it at the supermarket, in the reds of the strawberries and the greens in the apples. Your eyes gazed up at the old city buildings, wondering if an idea would spark from the crumbling cement and moss-ridden stones. Sometimes, you would pick the sprouts of weeds from the sidewalks to bring home with you in hopes that their beauty, despite their nuis of the gray concrete jungle aesthetic, would flood your mind with some type of passion.

Not even a life blooming amidst the city's fascination with destroying anything green could pry your mind away from the same old boring topics. Months of searching left you with nothing, and eventually, you began to give up on the idea of a muse entirely.

In the serenity of the diner on one particularly late-night shift, cutting through the stagnant air and filling your lungs with a breath of hope, you finally understood that a muse is not something that you go in search of, but rather something that seeks you when the time is right. The laughter was so beautiful that it made your knees go weak and your chest ache for a moment. You wondered how someone could evoke so much emotion within you without you even seeing their face.

The time, of course, was perfect, but when you finally caught sight of the thing you had been craving for so long, you realized that you were not prepared for what the search would bring.

In the diner booth, huddled in the very corner of the building by the window onlooking the streets, sat a man who turned your whole world upside down in an instant. A tattered band shirt with the sleeves cut off and a worn out logo magnified his strong arms, and his curly hair hung down over his shoulders to frame his beautifully crafted face. His jawline was sharp, angling down into a soft chin, and although large, his nose was stunning. His eyes, even from far away, managed to make your stomach flutter with curiosity.

He did not notice you, but god did you notice him, sitting across from a faceless man with long hair, laughing at a joke that was shared between them. His company, although facing away from you, seemed like the louder of the two, and his character bled from him as he spoke. You could not even muster the strength to crane and look at his face, because whatever he looked like paled in comparison to his company. You felt frozen as you watched from the kitchen window, hanging on to every small expression and drinking in every beautiful laugh that fell from his lips.

The first night he visited the diner, you could not find the courage to speak to him, nor could you even bring yourself to walk out into the dining room while he was still sitting. Despite your lack of conversation, you ran home that night and did not get a second of sleep; your nose was buried in a journal and you were too busy pouring your heart out on the paper. You wrote more than you ever had, and with more emotion than you could ever muster before.

The nameless boy was everything you were looking for and more, and proved that a muse was more than a ruby red strawberry amidst unripe fruit, and much more than a measly weed growing between the cracks in the sidewalk. You had been aimlessly searching for inspiration within the inanimate without even considering the fact that the most profound words would be inspired by a living, beating heart.

You vowed that the next time he stepped foot in the diner, you would make your move. You would introduce yourself, smile and take his order as if he hadn’t completely changed your world without even knowing it. You needed more than an echoing laugh, and more than a glimpse from around the kitchen wall. You needed to know him, down to the very things that made his heart beat.

Firstly, you needed his name, and without it, you could not find any more passion. You had milked every opportunity from the miniscule amount of time you had been blessed with his presence (which, admittedly, was a lot).

You needed him in your life, and you needed more than you could even begin to comprehend, because after a lifetime dedicated to forgetting, you found something that made you desperate to remember.

Unfortunately, your life had proved that remembering would ultimately be your demise, and your unwillingness to forget him would turn out be your worst nightmare.

A muse is a source of inspiration in all forms, and the most deadly (and the truest) form of inspiration is a heartbreak greater than itself.

Daniel Wagner was in fact your biggest muse, and to be a true source of inspiration, he was also destined to be the biggest heartbreak you had ever experienced.

05.19.22

06.21.22

07.04.22

08.02.22

08.31.22

09.15.22

Character Guide

Y/N

Vincent

Dylan

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rwuffles · 16 days

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☕️ ❛ playwright-themed names , pronouns & users！ ⚣ req ; 🎭

pt: playwright-themed names, pronouns, and users. requested by 🎭 (comedy-tragedy masks) anon. end pt.

⠀names — dramatist , beowulf , marilynne , calpurnia , lavinia , belladonna , bellamy , bellerose , ceridwen , evangeline , finnian , alastair , beaumont , lucienne , prescott , valencia , delphine , delphinia , esmerée , avenal , baudelaire , poe

⠀pronouns — play / plays , playwright / playwrights , playwright / playwrighter , play / playwright , act / acts , act / actor , script / scripts , drama / dramas , comedy / tragedy , tragedy / comedy , tragedy / tragedies , comedy / comedies , actor / actors , act / actress , actress / actresses , stage / stages , spot / light , back / stage , backstage / backstages , spot / spotlight , spotlight / spotlights , master / mind , mastermind / masterminds , dramatist / dramatists

⠀usernames — playwrightr , outofthespotlight , behindthestars , behindthestageplay , stageplaygenius , behindthespotlight , dramaticdramatist , actwright , backstagemastermind , backstagewrighter , tragecomedy , cometragedy , playter , playwrightist , scriptwright

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schlock-luster-video · 11 months

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On May 28, 1976, Belladonna of Sadness debuted in Portugal.

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charmixpower · 8 months

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got any future plans for adding to the child Valtor au, because the more i think about the more i wonder about how his age changes the way he interacts with the characters and vice versa

I cannot tell you how much I've been thinking about child Valtor ever since I made that post

You what a bunch of hcs??? You get a bunch of hcs!!!

Like Winx says that Valtor was made by the ancestral witches, he wasn't born, and he actively trashes against the control the ancestral witches have on him and they straight up help Bloom kill him for the kicks?? And it's like, just there? I love it but it's so easy to kill off Valtor bc he has control over his actions and he's an adult and you don't get to sit with these uncomfortable implications due to that. The tragedy has already happened, it's passed, you don't have to look at it. You know??? Not anymore, we all hurt forever

Can you imagine being Daphne??? Seeing Valtor hiding behind Belladonna's leg, this child. Can't be older than 11. Fighting your fellow Nymph's, and you can't even think about that, pay attention to that, because you need to fight Belladonna and protect your planet. This wasn't a priority, that child those evil women created wasn't a priority. How would you ever recover??

The company of light is made up of educators, people who dedicated their life to children. A stutter, a small child's eyes winding in panic. None of them could follow though. It was safer to kill him, he was made, he doesn't have a soul, it was the right option. They send him to the Omega dimension instead

He wakes up from the ice to see Belladonna's cold eyes staring back at him. She doesn't look the exact same but he knows that smile and he knows those eyes. He'd recognize his mother anywhere. He does what he's told for new Belladonna too, not that he knows why. Icy has plans, plans he's supposed to help out with

He clings to Bloom. Her magic feels like his, she's the only person who could begin to understand how he feels. She was chosen too, right? She gets it doesn't she? How could she not. He just wants someone, anyone to understand him, to help him. He couldn't tell you what he wants help with. The Ancestral Witches say he's loyal to them, and he's never been able to disagree with them before

He doesn't like the winx, he's never shared in his life and is loathed to start now. He plays tricks and schemes and never kills them. He mains, he disables, he distracts. This is fun. He's never had a true enemy, rival. The company of light wanted to defeat his mother's, these are his fights. It's fun, he wants to keep them

(You ever think about the amount of times Valtor could of straight up killed the winx or put his mark on them and he just kinda doesn't and then gives their romantic rivals a love potion??? Bc I do. That was weird and the entire reason this au exists. Like Valtor basically made the perfect opportunities for the winx to get their Enchantix by never directly trying to kill them. It's almost funny)

Valtor is completely incapable of free will but he does experience desires and he has the ability to think for himself. One of the winx asks him why he's doing all of this and he literally can't answer, he doesn't want to, he doesn't want to be here, but he does? That's why he's doing it, right? And the girlies get a front row seat to a child gaslighting themselves to cope with their inability to control their own actions

He wants to be powerful! The most powerful person in the dimension! Then he could do whatever he wants! Then he would be free! At least that's what he tells himself (he knows it's not true, but children are allowed to have their fantasies)

They could extinguish kill. He barely came up to Bloom's chest, and they could just extinguish him. If Bloom pulled at the fire element in his body and Aisha the water they could pull him apart. Making a soul sounded impossible and has never been done before but that's the only way to release the Ancestral Witches control on Valtor, so they'll do it

#post s3 Valtor is adopted by light rock and Bloom is his sister. hes just this insane kid they all take turns babysitting #yes that Valtor‚ the wizard of magic‚ the Ancestral Witche's most powerful weapon. his favorite flavor of icecream is mint chocolate chip.#ive only had one type of ice cream i can stomach if you think my ice cream assessment was wrong im sorry but do you get the vibe???#adult Riven who works at Rf lecturing the class while a world class war monger works on fractions at his desk with a slurpee #i can go more into my post s3 thoughts for him if you want. its just him being a kid™#rus chatters #asks #winx Valtor #child!valtor #winx club #winx headcanons

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c0ffinated · 1 year

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sweet, like an angel of death

#my art #OCs #belladonna #dnd #dnd art #tiefling #college of tragedy bard #tragedy bard #i love her so much #she's such a comfort character to draw #can't wait to play her

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aspoonofsugar · 5 months

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do you have a favourite RWBY arc?

Hello anon!

Do you mean story-arc or character arc? I am just gonna go with character arcs because I feel like it :) Here is my list. It combines my personal taste with those I think are best written.

1- Penny Polendina

Penny's arc is the best complete one in the series so far. It is thightly written and very powerful. Her final choice does what every character arc's climax should do: it ties togetyher all the thematic threads explored by Penny's arc in one incredibly meaningful moment. In the end, Penny chooses to be a friend, shows she is an adult and affirms her own humanity. Her choice is meant to be tragic and bittersweet because humanity can be both. Still, it is definately worth it.

1 - Cinder Fall

Cinder's arc isn't complete, but there is already enough for her to get first place together with Penny. Midnight is the best written episode of the series in my opinion and it manages to tie together all the pieces of foreshadowing and subtext present in Cinder's story up until that point. It is also a pivotal point in Cinder's story, where she has to make a choice. Will she recognize she is still a prisoner of abuse or will she ignore this truth? She chooses to repress and fails to develop positively. As a result, she has prepared her own tragedy.

Cinder's story is key to the whole series and it has the potential to end up above all the other arcs, if well executed.

3 - Weiss Schnee and Yang Xiaolong

Ice Girl and Fire Girl are tied for third place! (together with Jaune)

Weiss's arc has a very strong set-up and beginning. She gets a lot of focus at Beacon and quickly develops. After such a solid start her development can take the time to happen slowly, so that we can see how she has silently and beautifully evolved throughout the volumes. She is now warmer, kinder and happier than ever. Points for her having some of my favourite motifs.

Yang's arc is kind of the opposite, in my opinion. She gets the least focus among the 4 main girls in Vale. Still, the moment her arc decides to roll, it gets central stage. Her focus in Mistral is wonderful and her development is beautifully conveyed in volume 5 and volume 6 climaxes. Her confrontation with Raven is especially one of the best scenes of the series.

3 - Jaune D'Arc

Jaune's arc is one of the best executed both in terms of pacing and evolution of the character. If he keeps going this way, he might climb to first place tbh.

6 - Ruby Rose

I am expecting her to climb higher. Her focus in volume 9 was great and a beautiful first step in her development. The choice to mask her LRRH's story behind Alice in Wonderland references was wonderful and brilliantly executed. I think the ending could have been conveyed more powerfully, but the final result is still great. I am looking forward to how her arc will continue!

7 - Blake Belladonna and Oscar Pine

Blake's arc is beautiful and it ties together many thematic threads. Maybe a little bit too much, which is why it is below the other main characters. She is still wonderful though! And the more one analyzes her story, the more gems are found!

Oscar is one of the best written characters in my opinion, as his story is thight and perfectly intertwined with the main plot. Still, I think it has still to enter its climax, hence why he is only 7th place. Totally expecting him to climb higher, though.

9 - Emerald Sustrai

Emerald's arc has still to climax, but I like her set-up a lot and she is slowly going through a beautiful inner growth. There is already enough meet and actual development for her to just make the top 10 :P

9 - Pyrrha Nikos and James Ironwood

Both have masterfully written arcs and in terms of writing they could be higher. Still, I am less involved in their stories compared to others. In any case, they are two perfectly executed examples of tragedies. And different kinds of tragedies, as well.

Pyrrha's tragedy lies in the world around her. Ironwood's tragedy lies within himself.

11 - Lie Ren and Qrow Branwen

Both Ren and Qrow have beautiful arcs, but I am less involved with them when compared to others. So, here they are.

I would highlight this list doesn't consider characters like Salem, Nora, Raven, Summer or Mercury because even if set-up, their arcs still need to properly happen on-screen. Among them, though, I would say that Raven and Mercury especially have wonderful set-ups.

Raven's characterization and focus in volume 5 makes her one of the best written characters tbh. She is despicable, flawed, a coward and a hypocrite. And this is precisely why she is so great. She is very human and layered. It is clear she cares about Yang. Still, it is also clear she is too selfish and scared to act on her feelings. The way the narrative peels away her powerful mask to reveal a weak soul behind it is great. As it is the challenge for her to overcome her fear and make amends.

Mercury has so far one of the best set-up arc. His writing has been extremely thight and almost every scene he is in gives additioinal information on him, his background, his bonds with others and his feelings. All in a very subtle way. Basically, his writing is very rich and we can infer a lot, despite his arc having yet to start. He is the embodyment of the cycle of abuse and I am curious to see how this concept gets explored.

Finally, shout outs to Neo and Ilia. Their arcs aren't as complex or long and have less bits than the main characters'. Still, they are thight and perfectly executed.

Thank you for the ask!

#rwby #rwby chain of faves #asksfullofsugar #anonymous #penny polendina #cinder fall #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #jaune arc #ruby rose #blake belladonna #oscar pine #emerald sustrai #pyrrha nikos #james ironwood #raven branwen #mercury black

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howlingday · 2 months

Note

In the dark au I used Penny as a example because of the firsts ep of volume 1 and I imagine the scenario of Ozpin or Glynda putting Jaune on a mission to look at Penny while she is in beacon/vale

"What happened?"

"Good afternoon to you, too, Ja-"

"What? Happened?"

The headmaster of Beacon sighed as the headmaster of Atlas glared through the screen at him. Rubbing his eyes, he felt he knew this conversation was going to come up yet did nothing to prepare for it. He thought he had a few days, at least, before this call came. Hell, he expected Lisa Lavender trying to make contact with him first before anyone else. But here he was, fuming at his Valian counterpart.

"Would you believe a series of unfortunate circumstances?"

"Students are dead, Oz." Ironwood replied. "The public need to have faith in us to ensure humanity's survival. Having only one student survive initiation tells a lot more about Beacon's standards than it does about those who take part in it."

"I am aware, James." He removed his glasses, revealing dark bags under his eyes. "I am aware."

The general didn't respond, save for the softening of his hardened look. He then gave a sigh and shook his head. "You haven't gotten any sleep, have you?"

"Not since the morning of initiation, no." Little over 24 hours. Thank goodness for the high amount of sugar in his mug. "I'm assuming things are not much better in Atlas?"

"The media have been on me since the tragedy came out. Not to mention how much Schnee has been breathing down my neck to keep quiet about his daughter."

"It's to be expected of a father to be concerned with his child, is it not?"

"Any other man, yes. But you don't know him like I do. He's not angry that his daughter died. He's panicking because someone with his name failed to meet the expectations of a distant school."

"Speaking of family names, how is your second?"

"Working. Despite being given emergency leave to spend time with her family. I'm almost tempted to place her under house arrest just to make sure she's grieving properly."

"People grieve in their own ways, James."

"Yes, but the way she's choosing to grieve puts my men at risk, Oz. Not that you'd understand."

That last comment wasn't made with any scathing intention, despite how Ozpin felt at the moment. Long ago, before he was the headmaster of Beacon Academy, he did know how to lead his own battalion of soldiers. However, such memories did little to comfort those in the present.

"You're right." He nodded. "Will you be attending the memorial?"

"I intend to, if only so I know Winter will also be in attendance. Should I expect anyone of note at the memorial?"

"Of note in what regard?"

"I'm traveling with the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company and his family. You know what regard I am referring to."

"Messages have been delivered to the families. Should they not wish to participate and only want the remains returned for their own individual funerals, then I should receive notices of the fact." James held his signature firm look. Oz sighed. "Ghira Belladonna has long since denounced his association with the White Fang."

"He is still a person of interest to both the White Fang and Atlas."

"James-"

"I don't intend to arrest someone outside of Atlas, Oz, but if I'm forced to act as a huntsman-"

"Then we shall act together." Ozpin finished. "Is there anything else you wish to discuss with me, James?"

"Yes, just one more." James was quiet for a moment, but Oz was a patient man. The fact the words didn't come right out of his mouth meant that James was still uncertain about the topic he was going to present. Either his answer would be to dismiss his earlier statement, or to get to the heart of the matter. "I may have a new student for you to enroll."

#rwby #ozpin #james ironwood #my answer #my answers #dark au #rwby au

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justmaghookit · 4 months

Text

Contractual Obligations

Raphael/OC

SFW

AN: Did you know that in the case of devils one of their almost "signature" abilities is they can summon other devils into combat. I just think that's neat. Takes place in an au where my oc Belladonna has been a devil under Fierna for many years, and an on-again off-again lover of Raphael's

---

The House of Hope was under lockdown. All its entrances and exits were watched over by goat-headed devils who snarled and snorted at any who dared try to get in and take advantage of its Master's absence. Not that there was much worth taking left, the greatest of its treasures had been plundered, the best of its servants slaughtered.

And Hope?

Belladonna had cut her throat himself when he'd arrived in the foyer and seen the scene unfolding. Raphael had called him, summoned him, he'd never done that before. There was a clause in their business deal that allowed them to call upon each other in troubled times, neither of them would ever use it if they could help it, it was embarrassing, a show of weakness, a blow to pride.

This time though, it seemed Raphael's sense of self preservation won against his ego. He had called and Belladonna had been contract bound to answer.

Raphael's triumph had become Raphael's tragedy. Those ithilid infested adventures had smashed through his House with all the grace of a cannon ball and had the cambion cornered. Even his ascended form unleashed upon them had not slowed them down. He was beaten, bloody, leaking hellfire from gashes in his body and drooling from his maw like a rabid dog. He roared and shrieked and lashed at them but to no avail.

Raphael had been losing.

Belladonna had slit Hope's throat open with his claws, her gurgled death peals caught the attention of the adventurers. Belladonna had had just enough time to misty step across the foyer and grab Raphael's armored forearm and teleport them both away. The cambion had fought against the spell for a moment, refusing to leave his House before the fight drained out of him and he let the younger devil spirit him away.

Raphael now lays sprawled out and unconscious in Belladonna's own baths, taking up nearly half of the space with his monstrous form. That he hadn't turned back even after the worst of his injuries had been dealt with was a sign of just how close to death he had been. There was no afterlife for devils, only oblivion, that the man had risked it for his stupid plot and that stupid crown. He couldn't think about it for long or he'd be furious at a half dead man. He hopes those damned adventurers blow themselves up with it.

He sits with Raphael when he can, pulls his three faced head into his lap and strokes his fingers across the lattice of flesh and bone. The older fiend's internal fire did not roar and it was only thanks to the faint rasping of his breath he knew he was alive. With the amount of damage he had taken, not just to his body but to the house that was near an extension of him, it could take him decades to wake. He hoped it didn't take that long, he could only keep Raphael's affairs running for so long before Avernus came knocking and deemed him unfit for his position.

Belladonna did not want to deal with the fallout of that. Better to expedite the healing process and hope he'd only be out for a few weeks.

He tilts Raphael's head in his lap, pries open his maw and cuts into his own forearm with his claws. He lets his blood drip into the other fiends mouth and pool on his tongue, watches as he swallows unconsciously, it was progress. The past few days he'd had to force feed him the power that flowed through his veins. Very few devils would ever go to the trouble to do something like this willingly, nurse another devil back to health. Belladonna would have been better off letting him die and absorbing the other fiends parts of their business deal for himself. But it was Raphael and he was…

Well he was Raphael.

So far it was a good enough answer for his own mind, but he's sure once the other devil was up and about and questioning him he'd need to figure out a better one.

Raphael wakes on the third day of the third week, his eyes shoot open as Belladonna cuts into his own arm and the massive fiend has him pinned beneath his claws in seconds. Raphael’s arms shake with the effort of keeping his body up, his fire sputters and sparks and he pants wetly over the slight devil's face. He doesn't seem to know what to do now that he has him. Belladonna reaches for his clawed hand with the arm not pinned and pets over the protruding scales.

“Release me Raphael, then I'll give you what you want.” He orders. The other devil fights himself over it, conflict racing through animal eyes as he stares down at the prey he did not have the strength to kill. He releases him eventually, stumbling to the side with a rolling snarl. It does not intimidate Belladonna, not when the great beast's legs buckle and he crashes to the tiled floor.

“Poor thing.” Bella coos at him and kneels at his head, offers him his bloodied arm and sighs with pleasure as he opens his mouth and lets his tongue slide out to lap at the blood. He lets the cambion draw his arm into his mouth, he doesn't even bat an eye as his jaws snap shut and his teeth tear through flesh and crush bone. Belladonna wraps his free hand around Raphael's boney neck and rests his head atop Raphael’s own. An arm is an easy fix, worth the loss to see Raphael’s fire flare steady and strong.

As much as he gets a perverse thrill from feeding Raphael parts of himself, infecting his very being with his presence, he cannot do it forever. He cannot afford to weaken himself to the point the cambion could overpower him. As much as it would be a fitting end to his own miserable existence to let Raphael devour him, he has too many plans in process to let them all fail. Fierna kept him busy enough to keep the ennui at bay.

He also cannot afford to babysit Raphael for much longer. The older fiend was still in no state to attend his own affairs, half feral as he was and making a nuisance of himself in Belladonna’s private chambers. Many of Raphael’s indebted souls had escaped in the aftermath of the battle in his house and while he has bullied many of the fiends lesser servants into chasing them down, those old wrung out conquests would not be as filling as something new.

Bella could hand him something from his own stocks but with the way infernal contracts worked it wouldn’t be the same. No it had to be a soul from a deal Raphael had struck himself if it was to make any difference. In the meantime he could purchase bulk grubs from the soultrade, though he’s sure the man would turn up his nose at fodder like that, he also knows Raphael does not have much of a choice in the matter.

He hears the click-clack of claws and scrape of his tail on the tiled floors of his bathing chambers, the fiend pacing back and forth, his steps uneven as his left leg still struggles to support him. Belladonna sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. If Haarlep was still here he’d know which contracts to point him to, unfortunately the incubus had met his end to the same adventurers that had nearly destroyed Raphael. If he thinks too long about their mangled corpse he’s sure he’ll throw up from distress.

He had liked Haarlep, they had been friends. Or as close to friends as fiends could get.

There was no use dwelling in what was. Devils did not deal with the past, they toyed with the present and planned for the future. In the present he fixes Raphael and he plans to obliterate those adventurers in the future.

Raphael manages to speak on the fourth week, his voice a hissing gurgle from somewhere in his animal throat.

“Why?” Raphael asks him, he lounges half in the revitalizing waters of Belladonna’s bath, trying to look noble but coming off more like a gangly lizard, his breath rattles in his ribs and hellfire flickers weakly down his spine.

“Why what?” He counters, his arms hooked over the edge of the bathing pool where the water was deepest, letting himself half float there. Raphael slams his tail into the water and the younger devil sputters and shakes his head as he’s splashed.

“Do not play Bella.” He wheezes, too large teeth snapping in the air, a growl rumbling in his chest.

He sighs and tips his head back against the edge of the bath, tries to ignore the other fiend but knows it's not possible. He’d brought him here after all. He drops his hooves in the water and stands, walks across to where Raphael lays, the cambion watches him warily as he reaches out to cup under his jaw, thumb rubbing over a protruding tusk.

“What do you want me to say? That I did it for the sake of our ”business”? That it was on a whim? That it was to have you in my debt? You know why Raphael, don’t pretend you don’t.” Belladonna answers.

I love you, I love you, I hate you, you cannot die on me, only I get to kill you, you’re part of the reason I’m like this, I hate you, I love you, you are the ruin of me, I will ruin you, I love you.

“You are a fool.” Raphael growls, he manages to curl a massive clawed hand around his waist, although he lacks the strength to restrain him there. Belladonna finds he has no reason to wiggle free.

“No more a fool than you are, my prince without a crown.” He hums to him, tipping his head forward to press his forehead to Raphael’s. The fiend’s eyes burn, filled with fury and humiliation in equal measure and his claws prickle against his skin, threatening damage he does not have the strength to inflict.

“Do not sulk Raphael, it’s unbecoming of you. Rest, heal, grow stronger for your failures. We’ll punish those adventurers together.” Belladonna promises him, pressing his lips to the center of his twisted face.

Raphael heaves a great breath. “Together then.”

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x oc #raphael the cambion #c; belladona darke #this maybe appeals to like Three people but its whatever #mags writes

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